At dusk, a fiery red glow stained the place where the sea met the horizon.
Ripples spread across the calm sea, the reflections of black cannon muzzles and towering sails wavering in the water.
"Looks like they've changed their strategy. Those troops sent to reinforce Guardpoint Ridge have done us quite a favor." Clad in a purple spider-silk battle cloak, the troll toyed with two poisoned daggers as he watched the defenders of Guardpoint Ridge with amusement.
Mark, commander of the Gut-Hunter Fleet, lowered his spyglass, the corners of his mouth lifting. Just as Nakata had said, the reinforcements at Guardpoint Ridge had effectively weakened their own side, surrendering the initiative and reducing themselves to helpless targets.
Mark's warships could not match the Third Fleet's medium sailing warships in either firepower or performance.
The Gut-Hunter Fleet had seized the initiative in the naval battle only because its ships could turn completely invisible, evading direct bombardment by the Kul Tiras Navy.
But the Kul Tiras fleet before them held its position, maneuvering only in the waters below Guardpoint Ridge. That meant the Gut-Hunter Fleet could act freely, without bearing the crushing pressure of a head-on assault from the Kul Tiras fleet.
After all, the ships on the two sides were in entirely different leagues. If the defenders truly risked everything to trade losses with Mark's fleet, he might not be able to withstand it.
"Order the ships to spread out in Second Formation! Fire at will!" Mark drew his scimitar and shouted the command.
Twenty-one warships turned their hulls, bringing their cannon decks to bear on Guardpoint Ridge's gun towers and the defenders' ships.
Black meteors streaked across the sky, trailing flames in an arc.
Then a string of thunderous reports rang out.
By the time the sound of cannon fire